


Garland Moon: A Noble Heart

by TheGrammarHawk



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Ferdibert Flashbang (Fire Emblem), Ferdibert Flashbang 2020, Ferdibertvdaybang, Fluff and Angst, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22745491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGrammarHawk/pseuds/TheGrammarHawk
Summary: It was almost the end of Garland Moon, after all. There was no better time to admit one’s proper feelings to another. He had been going to make his intentions clear, official,intimate…Now he was going to die without having even told Ferdinand that helovedhim.For Ferdibert Server's Valentine's Flashbang 2020!
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & Hubert von Vestra, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 190
Collections: Ferdibert Gang Valentine Flashbang





	Garland Moon: A Noble Heart

**Author's Note:**

> For this flashbang I worked in a trio, so there's actually a prelude to this fic by [0o_LilacRose_o0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/0o_LilacRose_o0/pseuds/0o_LilacRose_o0), though both the prelude and this fic could also be read on their own! Check it out! [Confusion and fear](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22745218)  
> Also, check out the [art for this fic](https://twitter.com/aflightybroad/status/1228874480140898304) !
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day!

To think that Ferdinand had been able to sneak past Arundel’s radar so easily as to obtain a record of the coming assault...

The entire strike force had never been meant to become caught up in the war against _them_. That had been his business, his alone, as well as Edelgard’s. She shouldn’t have had to worry about _them_ , after all, not now that the surface war was over.

Yet it appeared that she trusted her - _their_ \- friends more than Hubert had originally considered. It was common knowledge that he tolerated (read: cared for) the other former eagles, and perhaps that in and of itself was why he hadn’t wanted them involved.

The enemy that slithered in the dark was _dangerous_ , more so than the armies they had already faced. They were far more devious, had much more advanced technologies, and had much less to lose.

The last of the saints of Garreg Mach were dead. Sothis’ heart had dissolved. If Macuil and Indech were still out there, they had clearly been subdued.

The only people the pests had left to turn on were those of the new, united Fódlan, starting with their precious tool, Edelgard.

Their ability that allowed them to take the form of a comrade was the most daunting aspect of the fight. Hubert should have read the clues, he should have prepared for this outcome, he should have _known_.

Yet there was nothing he could do but stare into Edelgard’s eyes from across the field.

It had been an ambush, in theory. What had been on paper a fallen Kingdom’s revolt had instead turned sinister when more and more of their own ranks turned out to be part of the enemy: each and every one of them one that slithered in the dark wearing the face of a soldier, just as Ferdinand had informed Hubert of. What was supposed to be a swift, easy battle had instead become a bloody blindside, even _with_ Ferdinand’s convincing deception.

Their troops were either truly allied with _them_ or dead. They had no backup battalions besides, it had not been thought of and accounted for. Now it was only the nine of them left. Granted, most of _them_ had been easily dealt with and killed, thanks to the knowledge Ferdinand had gathered. So few remained that Byleth alone could single-handedly defeat them, no problem.

Except Hubert had _fucked up_.

He had been too focused on Edelgard’s safety, he had exhausted too many spells at her expense. She could take care of herself, he knew, he _knew_ , but she was all the family he had left, liege or no, and he couldn’t lose her to the same people that had tormented her since childhood.

It had been, in the end, all too easy for a Silence spell to encase him, and he had not thought to bring his bow or lance for such a small mission as this. All it took was an arm about his throat from Chilon, one of Thales’ foremost men, keeping him still - the battle around them whirled to a halt. Edelgard, Byleth, Dorothea, Caspar - not a one of them moved as Chilon shifted to grab a fist of Hubert’s hair, axe out and positioned so that with one swing his head could be lobbed straight off.

Aside from the blood rushing through his ears, all Hubert could think about was how absolutely terrified Edelgard’s eyes showed her to be. That, and how not a single member of the strike force had ever learned a Rescue spell.

“Move and the dog dies, your _Majesty_.”

“What do you _want_ , Chilon?”

Edelgard was clearly as angry as she was afraid, if the flare of her nostrils was anything to go by.

“The _beasts_ of humanity have yet to pay for their sins in full. You can either step aside and allow your ‘uncle’ to rule in your stead, and no longer meddle in our plans - or we can simply kill this damn vassal of yours and rain destruction upon the continent. The choice is _yours_.”

For _months_ Hubert had been meaning to train Dorothea or Linhardt in the ability to trace the acts of the Agarthans. There had never been any proper time, any proper moment, and now-

Now _he_ was the bargaining chip used against Edelgard’s rule.

He had to hope that Edelgard would not heed such a baseless threat. She would be able to locate their stronghold and kill Thales before too many more were killed.

There was no other option. He had to struggle, he had to let himself be killed. In his peripheries, Hubert could see Bias, another head general of the Agarthans, standing off to the side, hands poised and ready with a spell should anyone dare move. Sounds of fighting still came from the further stretch of the battlefield, where the rest of the strike force were too far to interfere. _Ferdinand_ was over there, most likely completely unaware to what was happening outside of the range of his lance.

They had been courting ever since Byleth had been rediscovered, before the war had ended. It was casual, cautious, something new to both of them, fragile and so easily scared off. Lately Hubert had decided that it wasn’t simply some war’s fling, but something _real_ , and he had had plans…

It was almost the end of Garland Moon, after all. There was no better time to admit one’s proper feelings to another. He had been going to make his intentions clear, official, _intimate_ …

Now he was going to die without having even told Ferdinand that he _loved_ him.

Hubert steeled himself, locking eyes with Edelgard as he did. The emotions in her eyes were glossed over when she saw him, a cold ice spreading over her face in order to protect herself, the same mask she wore years ago when it was her siblings by blood that had died, one by one.

At least he had given her a family for the past decade or so. She would be fine without him, she had to be. They had always planned for this possibility.

Edelgard lifted her chin, staring Chilon down impassively. The Agarthan sneered in return, raising his axe in preparation.

“This is no _bluff_ , Majesty-”

Hubert would not close his eyes, instead keeping his gaze steady ahead of himself. Dignity, even in death, for the sake of the empire.

_For Edelgard, and all of Fódlan._

“Hubert!”

Out of nowhere - quite _literally_ \- a horse and its rider manifested next to Hubert, a strong arm knocking the wind out of him as it wrapped about his waist, accompanied by the sharp clang of metal on metal. The next thing Hubert knew was being hoisted up to sit side-saddle in front of-

“ _Ferdinand?!_ ”

Sure enough, it was long orange waves that whipped out behind them as Ferdinand glanced back, eyes bright with anger as they turned sharply to ride back to the others. Byleth and Edelgard had immediately rushed forward, Caspar quick to join them, aiming to strike down Chilon before anything else happened.

Ferdinand opened his mouth, ready to say something when his eyes widened. Hubert only had a moment to recognize the prickle of incoming magic before Ferdinand roughly threw him off his horse.

The impact of the fall stunned him, a startled gasp tearing at his throat as he rolled in the dirt and grass in a rather painful manner.

Even so, no physical harm hurt as much as the sight of Dark Spikes enveloping Ferdinand, likely from Bias or one of her mages.

It didn’t miss.

Only the lingering effects of the Silence spell kept Hubert from exploding then and there as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, watching the sun disappear into a cloud of darkness and not rise again.

***

Hubert hardly remembered the rest of the battle. Dorothea had administered panicked healing to Ferdinand until Linhardt managed to reach them from across the battlefield, but soon enough the fight was over and only eight people remained standing in the field. No one had dared talk to him about what had happened, the most acknowledgement at all being a heavy, loaded gaze from Edelgard.

(He absolutely hated this part of the fight. It was easier when all he needed to do was keep Edelgard’s plan in motion during the war. Having any regard for his own life could remain in the background, then, but now? He was the only one with the ability to find _their_ stronghold until he managed to teach Linhardt or Dorothea. If he fell… the knowledge that the Agarthans would not hesitate to use their beams of light… So long as Hubert was alive, they had to hold back.)

The very notion that _he_ was being protected instead of being the one to _do_ the protecting was so out of Hubert’s depth that the post-battle numbness still hadn’t faded away entirely.

The sight of Ferdinand lying on the ground was just a confirmation that everything was _wrong_. He had gone pale with blood loss so quickly, eyes open but not seeing as his armor revealed sharply punctured holes, holes that went into his flesh, his _body_ , from the impact of the spikes. The skin around the wounds had been gray, dark webs along pale that was far too similar to the way Hubert’s own hands looked.

Hubert hadn’t seen what progress Dorothea had managed to make once Linhardt came over, nor had he seen how Ferdinand was doing over the following two days after the fight. He learned just what had happened, of course: a weary Byleth had informed Hubert that apparently the other side had been routed more swiftly, and upon realizing that a hostage scenario had taken hold, Linhardt had used Warp to send Ferdinand into the fray. An idea on Ferdinand’s part, of _course_ it was, as reckless as it was. Only Ferdinand would offer the absolute nonsense tactic of being teleported mid-gallop to the side of a hostage.

It was a ridiculously risky idea, yet somehow, it paid off. It did what it was meant to do: remove Hubert from a lethal situation.

The cost had been a target on Ferdinand’s back.

If _only_ it had been any other kind of magic - had he been overwhelmed by faith or burned by reason, then healing magic would have him stable and ready to do something else idiotic in no time at all.

 _Dark_ magic, however… it festered and lingered and _rotted_ your body and soul alike, whether you were the caster or the victim. Hubert, of all people, would know.

Just as he knew that when Ferdinand _did_ wake up, everything would ache; a strange coldness would linger over his limbs.

Hubert would be ready. He couldn’t simply sit around and _mope_ , Flames, he had to do _something_ to distract himself from the fact that the man he loved was in the castle infirmary because of _his_ carelessness.

***

It was on the fourth day that Ferdinand awoke. When Edelgard had informed him that it was Linhardt’s shift, Hubert had quietly made his way to the infirmary. It was common knowledge that Linhardt was far more lenient on visitors than the other skittish palace healers, especially with those he knew.

It was easy enough for Hubert to settle in the quiet corner next to Ferdinand’s bed, the items he brought with at the ready on the end table, including the warming pot of tea.

He only had to read for half an hour before fluttering eyelids grabbed his attention. Something cold that had been wrapped around his heart thawed and melted at the sight, face softening as Ferdinand slowly and sleepily seemed to rouse himself. It was the way long eyelashes opened to reveal exhausted eyes, the way he slowly inhaled, the deep breath filling his exposed, but bandaged, chest, the way his nose scrunched and a finger idly twitched as if it were to rub it if it had been able to move. Instead, his eyebrows knitted in an expression of confusion and pain, if his mild grimace was anything to go by.

Hubert could not help himself, not with how relieved he was that Ferdinand was finally becoming awake and aware. Voice soft, he stood, moving to sit on the side of the bed instead of his chair.

“Goodmorning, sunlight.”

He responded to the dazed look by carefully sweeping the tangled orange hair from his face, drinking in the sight of him. How he _ached_ for the pain the other must be in.

It only reminded him of how it must _not_ happen again, and of the very reason why Hubert was waiting in the room with him.

“Allow me to get you some water. Once you’ve had a glass, I’ll pour you tea.”

With that, he pressed a kiss against Ferdinand’s forehead, moving to fulfill his statement. By the time Ferdinand had finished the water, he appeared far more talkative. Hubert hardly blamed him, since he had gone days without speaking.

Going so long without the sound of Ferdinand’s voice was a crime itself.

“I… am glad to see you are alright, Hubert,” came the first soft words, Ferdinand now sitting up against the headboard. His hands, usually so warm, rested clasped in his lap, still cool to the touch. Between that and the dark purple bruising under his eyes, Hubert desperately wished there was something he could do to ease his ailments. Even so, the hot coil of discomfort rose in Hubert’s belly, looking away from the other man as he tried to douse the bitterness of his words.

“There was… There was no _need_ for such a stunt, Ferdinand. I am prepared to lay down my life for the empire.”

With a huff, Ferdinand shook his head lightly, frown tugging at his lips. “Do not place so little weight on your own survival, Hubert.”

His gaze lingered on Hubert for a few beats more before he reached out, fingertips resting lightly on Hubert’s own gloved hand. With a faint smile, he ran a finger over his knuckle.

“You say you are prepared to die for the empire. You fail to note, then, that _I_ am fully prepared to die for _you_.”

Truly, there was no way for Hubert to respond to that other than to let his fingers thread through Ferdinand’s own, leaning forward to press a halting, slow kiss to Ferdinand’s small grin, just for long enough to feel his smile grow larger, more genuine.

Perhaps it did not fully ease Hubert’s heart to know that Ferdinand would always be willing to save him out of his devotion to _him_ over his devotion to the empire, but there would simply be no changing that. He had argued with the cavalier for too many years to think otherwise.

And yet…

“Ferdinand.” His voice dipped low, a quiet earnest that few ever heard from him. “If you ever acted foolish enough to get yourself killed, know that part of me would die as well.”

“Hubert?” the redhead softly questioned in return, slowly blinking as Hubert pulled away from his side, only briefly. “Is…”

His gaze followed Hubert’s movement to the table as the dark mage deftly picked up the item resting innocently next to the teapot. Holding it lightly as though a swift movement could ruin it, Hubert sat back at Ferdinand’s side, briefly letting his eyes flicker up to his love’s face.

“I know that I requested we take things… slowly, due to the war. Ferdinand, I need you to be aware: you have my most ardent affections, and I… daresay I would not be able to bear it if I lost you, especially in my stead.”

With that, Hubert lifted the precious crown of white roses, painstakingly picked, thorns removed, woven with care, and brought it up to Ferdinand’s head. Setting the garland atop the tangled orange waves, Hubert let his hand drop down to cup Ferdinand’s cheek, flooded with equal parts anxiety and determination.

Ferdinand reached his own trembling one to hold Hubert’s close against his face, tilting in towards the warmth that lay beneath the cloth.

“I… Hubert, this practically sounds like a _proposal_.”

Pink raced across the tips of Hubert’s ears as he took the tease for what it was, “Not quite yet. There is still much work to be done before…” he trailed off, lips curling into a light smirk at the way Ferdinand’s expression brightened, even for a moment. “I simply ask you to know, for certain, for as long as I may find myself at your side, that I am, with all of the heart that remains my own to give, most sincerely yours to love, should you wish to take what little remains. I felt it… appropriate, given that Garland Moon is nearly over. It would hardly be right to go on without laying how I feel quite bare.”

Giving a small huff of laughter, Ferdinand kissed the inside of Hubert’s palm before shaking his head wearily. Whether his eyes were wet still from exhaustion or something else, Hubert did not know.

“Oh, you _terrible_ man… of course I love you as deeply as you love me in turn. I have not run off shrieking yet, have I? I thank you for at least doing this while I am reclined so, I am faint enough as it is!”

Pressing a palm against Ferdinand’s breast, Hubert allowed himself to feel the strong, if a bit off-tempo, as per usual with regard to Ferdinand, beats thud against his ribcage. Alive.

“I shall be sure to keep that in mind, as I do with all your other demands.”

“You certainly must! Especially if you ever do truly give a proposal even half as grand, it would hardly be kind to send me into such a shock!”

Hubert kissed his knuckles, not bothering to comment. After a shared drink and idle conversation, he found himself sitting pressed up against Ferdinand, fully on the bed, combing his fingers through his hair as Ferdinand rested his head on Hubert’s sternum.

He had apologized, needlessly, for once again growing tired. It was to be expected; he was still healing, after all. Just this once, just because he could not bring himself to refuse, he would stay with him as he fell asleep. He would pull the hair from his eyes, and once he seemed to be truly slumbering, perhaps he would shift so that his head could lay upon his lap, instead. The garland could be set back upon the table, it was already charmed to last another week, anyways.

It wasn’t as though this would be their last Garland Moon together, after all. In the Imperial Year 1187, Garland Moon would once again come about.

This time, however, the garland of white roses would be made of cloth, specially sewn by Bernadetta, for Ferdinand to wear at their wedding.

It would look just as lovely then as it did now.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Sorry I can't help but be a gremlin even on the fluffiest of days aha.


End file.
